


Desires

by witchway



Series: Sincerity And Secrets [3]
Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, OK who knew Tony Stark Cuddles was a thing??, Pillow Talk, Rimming, Sex Talk, Tony Stark Cuddles, Tony has a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-24 14:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: Peter analyzed the sentence for sincerity but came up with….nothing.  The sentence sounded neither polite nor sincere, nor did it really register as a deflection.  It sounded like a simple statement.
Relationships: Starker - Relationship, Tony Stark/Peter Parker
Series: Sincerity And Secrets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534667
Comments: 27
Kudos: 103





	1. That Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I _remember_ what you looked like the day I met you, believe me, I remember. You looked like an angel. You looked good enough to make a grown man cry. Until I found out how _old_ you were, then the grown man had to consider therapy." 

Spooning in bed, in the dark, Tony kissed him on the back of the head. “If you wake up, and I’m not here, don’t take it personally,” he said softly. “I don’t sleep very long, so I get up and tinker. But I’ll come back when I can.”

“Can I stay for breakfast?” Peter asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.

“You can stay for as long as you like,” Tony said sweetly (but it was back, _dammit_ it was back. That **polite** edge. That untrustworthy edge. Did Tony really mean that?)

“Tony, can I ask you something?” Peter said, suddenly, daringly, recklessly. But when Tony said “Of course,” Peter lost his nerve and said something else.

Of course, what he DID say was pretty daring, too.

“Ok, so now that you’ve seen me naked, I need you to be honest. Do you really think I look older than 15? 

“Because I’ve been angst-ing about it for….well for 5 years really. It’s like my whole body….like all the testosterone said “Nope! Done!” ever since the spiderbite. And left me stranded. 

“No, I’m serious…look at this….” He took Tony’s hand and put it up to his chin. “Just as much hair as I had on the day of the spiderbite.” He moved the hand down to his chest. “And same here – exactly as much hair as that day, I swear.” 

He started to move Tony’s hand lower, but then lost his nerve, and left it on his stomach.

“It’s the same _everywhere_. And my voice? It’s just never getting any lower than this. I’m, like, frozen in time. 

“And I meant what I said about getting carded….everywhere. And it sucks trying to get a date when guys keep asking you if you’re old enough to drive.”

Tony scoffed. “Kid, you’re dropdead gorgeous. I refused to believe you have trouble getting laid.”

“Oh guys will take me to bed, they just won’t take me _out_. I mean I was _sort_ of dating this guy, sort of, until finally he just came out and admitted he didn’t want to take me out on dates because I ‘made him feel like a pedophile.’ He was a year older than I was.”

“Kid, I love you but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tony sat up on one arm, kissed Peter on the face, then turned his face around, pulling away enough to look into Peter’s eyes.

“_Do_ you trust me?” he said in voice so sexy Peter would have come on the spot if he hadn’t just come in the man’s mouth an hour ago.

“Yes,” Peter squeaked.

“I _remember_ what you looked like the day I met you, believe me, I remember. You looked like an angel. You looked good enough to make a grown man cry. Until I found out how _old_ you were, then the grown man had to consider therapy. 

“And I’ve watched you. A lot more that I’d like to admit. And Kid? **_You’re grown_**. You just can't see it.

“Besides, like I said….” 

He ran his hand up Peter’s stomach.

“There is no.”

His ran his hand up one pectoral muscle.

“Version. Of reality.”

He ran that same hand down Peter’s bicep. 

“Where a 15 year old looks like **_this_**.”

Tony kissed him on the back of the head and lay back down, leaving Peter wide-eyed and smiling.

“There’s nothing about you that can’t be solved with a good haircut and a decent suit,” Tony mumbled, snuggling in and holding Peter close.

He was probably ready to go to sleep. But Peter’s eyes were wide now, with an embarrassing surprised grin on his face. _“Kid, I love you but….”_ was echoing in his head, and if he didn’t say something ELSE he was going to start confessing his love too.

“Tony?”

“Ummmm?”

“In the morning, will you fuck me properly?”

“If you play your cards right,” and there it was again. That _edge_. Was Peter imagining it? One minute it was just Tony, providing him with information, the next that _polite_ tone that made Peter doubt everything.

“I guess I should ask you what you like, and not assume anything.”

“You guessed right.”

“So….what do you like to do in bed?”

“What do YOU like to do in bed?”

That, at least, was sincere.

“OK, well, I’ve bottomed for guys mostly, it feels good. Gets you outside of your head. Unless you’re really thinking about the guy you have a crush on, then you want to stay in your head. And I topped a couple of guys – two, literally. It was…I don’t know. This may not make sense but it wasn’t, it felt _too_ intimate. Too intimate to do with a stranger. Like maybe if I knew these guys, or had some respect for them, or _something_. Then it would make more sense. But having just met someone it felt….inappropriate.

“But I like going down on guys….” He pulled forward a little and turned his head to whisper “And I can hold my breath for 5 minutes now. I timed it.”

Tony’s eyes were closed, but his eyebrows went up at that statement, which made Peter grin.

“And I _know_ what _you_ like.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

Tony’s spoke with his eyes closed, so he couldn’t see Peter’s grin. Which Peter tried to stifle so he could use his best bedroom voice when he said “You like touching my ass. And you like kissing and biting and massaging my ass.”

“Don’t make me plead the fifth again.” 

“I won’t…. you can do that for as long as you like.

“OK that was me – now what you do like?”

“What do you want me to like?”

Tony’s deflection didn’t irritate Peter at all, probably because it was obviously sincere. It was those vaguely -insincere responses, those “acting out a role” responses, that made Peter’s chest tighten. 

Besides, it was a perfectly legitimate question, and Peter considered it carefully before answering.

“I want to go down on you. I want to know if I can make you come in my mouth. I want you to be into that, but if you’re not, at least I want to know – I _really_ want to know – what you taste like. And…I kind of want to learn how to do to you what you did to me in the shower. Does that sound ok?”

“That sounds scrumptious,” the dashing and debonair Tony Stark replied, and dammit that didn’t sound sincere at all. 

But then again maybe he was just being ridiculous. They were _in bed_ together, weren’t they?? So Peter pushed away that annoying little voice in his head. He scooted his shoulders away from Tony so that when he turned his head, he could look back into Tony’s face.

It would have been easier to say _this_ without looking back into Tony’s eyes, but he was determined to be brave.

“I want to feel your cock inside me,” he said, and then immediately chickened out again.

“I mean I want to feel it in my mouth, and I want to feel it in my hand, **_god_** I want to feel you in my hand again. I _loved_ holding your head when you come, and I will, I mean if you like it that way I’ll do it but I _really_ want to jerk you off again…”

Tony’s eyes were closed, but he moaned slightly. They were still spooning together at the waist and as Peter spoke Tony pressed forward involuntarily. His cock was soft, but he was grinding in up against Peter’s body, and if _that_ wasn’t sincerity, nothing was.

Then he reached up and seized Peter’s jaw in his hand and kissed him full on the mouth.

“Now tell me what you like,” Peter said as soon as Tony released him, determined not to be deterred. 

“I wanna listen to you talk about my cock and your mouth again,” Tony growled. He tried to kiss Peter again but now Peter was grinning. Being brave paid off. He was going to remember that.

“I’ll talk about it as much as you want,” Peter whispered after pulling away from Tony’s mouth enough to speak. Tony kept kissing him, but he spoke nonetheless.

“I’ll talk about anything you want, but I’m going to keep asking you until you tell me, _what do you like to do in bed_?”

But instead of answer Tony kissed him again. Then proceeded to run his tongue along Peter’s lips, pulling away when Peter forward, teasing them with a touch so slight it tickled, and Peter had to bite his lip before continuing. 

The kiss was sweet and tender and luxurious,and it made Peter moan and squirm. Then finally he giggled. This was ridiculous. 

“You can kiss me all night, but I’m not going to stop asking you this question.”

“I want _that_,” Tony said finally, leaving Peter to pull away from the kiss so he could think far back enough to the last thing he said, to remember what “that” was.

“You want…..your cock in my hand and….no?” Peter’s forehead knotted when Tony shook his head as he tried to puzzle it out. “You want …. my cock in your hand in your mouth, oh _yes_ Tony….no?”

Tony brought their foreheads together and whispered “I want to feel your cock inside _me_.”

Peter analyzed the sentence for sincerity but came up with….nothing. The sentence sounded neither polite nor sincere, nor did it really register as a deflection. It sounded like a simple statement.

But then Tony started to turn away and Peter realized he had hesitated too long before answering, and Tony had taken his hesitation for an answer. He made up for it by pulling the man into his arms – it had the extra benefit of hiding his face. (At this moment, his eyes were _very_ wide.)

“Oh god Tony, it would be an honor….” Wait, that didn’t sound right.

“I mean _yes_. Yes, of course. But….I’m going to need your help. You’re fragi... I mean, **_people_** are fragile, and I’m.... not. You’ll have to …”

He pulled the man’s forehead back to his forehead and held Tony’s face in his hands as he struggled to explain.

“If you let me lay on my back and….ride me….I need to know how hard you want it. You’ll have to show me.”

“Certainly,” was Tony whispered reply, and it sounded sincere.

“But I _do_ want to ride your cock too. At least once…” Peter confessed, but Tony only pushed his body around and returned them to their spooning position and pulled him close. 

This was good, because Peter’s eyes were still wide, both in surprise at what he had just agreed to do and with the fear that he had just messed something up. Tony had, obviously, just confessed to something very personal and Peter had….said “It would be an honor?!?” That wasn’t right – it had taken so long for Tony to get up the nerve to ask, he must have been embarrassed by it. Peter should also be confessing something deeply personal, something embarrassing. He opened his mouth and tried his level best.

“How do you feel about…..silky lingerie?”

“What?” Tony asked sleepily. Peter took Tony’s hand and placed it squarely on his chest.

“I asked, how do you feel about silky lingerie?”

“Oh baby,” growled Tony (in a voice that _certainly_ sounded sincere.) “Wait, for you or for me?”

“For me,” Peter said, then quietly described his failed attempt at trying to turn a silk nightshirt into something else, cutting off the sleeves and the middrift, “But the it just looked like a silk crop top and I felt silly. But I can’t buy anything in a _store_, and buying things online gets complicated because I don’t want May to find out…”

“Do you want daddy to buy you something special online?” Tony asked and Peter startled them both by sitting up suddenly. “NO!”

“No, sorry, I meant I need your help ordering…. I will pay you back. No, I do not need you to buy me things…”

He lay back down, pulled Tony’s arms around him, and tried to laugh it off.

“I don’t need you to _buy_ me things. I just need to get naked with you for as long as possible.”

“Go to sleep,” Tony whispered. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Peter sighed in relief. That certainly sounded sincere.


	2. The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh dear,” Peter said as Tony pushed him, face first, to the wall exactly as he had done before. “Are you really going to eat me out before breakfast?” 

_This was beyond terrible. Tony was on his knees, going down on Peter with an expert mouth, but Peter couldn’t make it happen, and Tony was getting annoyed. “Come on Kid, I’m doing you a **favor** here,” the man was groucing (despite the fact that his mouth was full) and Peter was trying to explain that the clouds of concrete dust and deafening sound of concrete-against-metal of the collapsing building above him was _possibly_ the reason for the delay. And as soon as he removed the concrete slab of impossible size off of his chest he would say so. He _knew_ Tony was _doing him a favor_, was sucking him off out of _pity_, and _dammit_ he was going to appear grateful. _

_But then Tony, a second Tony, a much more patient Tony, was stroking his face and kissing his mouth. Normally the combination of two men and a giant concrete slab would have made Peter a little claustrophobic, but something about the attention that Nicer Tony was paying him, something about the gentle hands stroking his hair and the whispered “Shhhhh” against his ear made the concrete dust clear and the ringing in his ears become silent. His arms, now free of the debris, reached around the man’s strong shoulders and _that’s when Peter realized he was lying in Tony’s enormous bed and the man was kissing him tenderly, stroking his face.

Peter moaned and combed his hand through Tony’s hair and pulled him closer. He never wanted to end this kiss, but when Tony did, moving his mouth to Peter’s neck and then shoulder, Peter was grinning from ear to ear.

Even in his dreams, he had been doubting that Tony really wanted him. As of this morning, he could bury his fears forever. _Tony had woken him like this_ – Peter hadn’t asked for it, requested it, pleaded for it or argued about it. It was completely of Tony’s own volition. No doubt about it. Tony was willing.

Peter tried to voice some of his thoughts but they were impossible to put into words (besides Tony was kissing him again) and so he had to be satisfied with moaning (and occasionally whimpering as Tony’s free hand caressed his chest, his ribs, and his back. The pajamas Tony had helpfully provided the night before were becoming an issue, but Tony was skillfully working him out of them.)

In fact, Tony had pulled away from his mouth long enough to look down to undo the buttons in front. Peter looked down with him, watching his fingers move, wondering if he had died and gone to heaven. This was it – the morning Tony made love to him for the first time. Despite all the other things they had discussed the night before, Peter was _pretty_ sure he knew what Tony wanted when the man’s hand slipped behind him and began to work fingers into the crack of his ass even as Tony’s mouth tried to suck bruises into the skin of his chest (Peter didn’t bruise, but damn did he ever appreciate the thought.)

“Oh God Tony, yes….yes!” Peter moaned, trying not to sound too eager (but _dammit_ he had waited _a long time _for this!)

Tony’s head snapped up, as if startled. But then he smiled when he looked into Peter’s eyes.

“Good morning angel,” he smiled, his hand still working behind Peter, teasing his opening, pressing their bodies together. 

“Mmmmm…..good morning to you too…..” Tony said, looking down at Peter’s erection, pressing against him.

“Good morning, Tony,” Peter said back, and pulled the man in for another kiss. This was all too perfect, all this touching and holding and kissing. He wanted to savor it before the more frantic movements of lovemaking began….

…but was startled when Tony suddenly pulled away, pushed off the covers and climbed out of bed.

“Let’s get a shower,” he was saying cheerfully. Peter, on the other hand, was gaping and sputtering. “Come on,” Tony said, taking his hand, and soon they were headed for the bath.

Tony’s bathroom was a sight to behold, with a massive tub, a separate shower the size of Peter’s bedroom, and various chairs and stools, even a love-seat and a desk, in odd places. Tony and Peter met in the shower where they had spent many memorable moments the night before.

“Oh dear,” Peter said as Tony pushed him, face first, to the wall exactly as he had done before. “Are you really going to eat me out before breakfast?” 

He was joking, but as Tony turned on the spray and reached for the wash cloth, he whimpered and turned his head. This wasn’t easy – it was amazing, just not easy. The sounds he made were so _embarrassing_, and yet there didn’t seem to be any way to stop them.

It was only at the very last second that Peter realized he could put his hands up against the wall, and then lean his hand against his face, and then when Tony got on his knees and spread his asscheeks he could stuff his hand into his mouth and that would help. 

A little.

He was going to be more _manly_ this time, he promised himself. No more gasping out loud when Tony got creative with his tongue. It would be easier because he knew what to expect. He had been (in that regard) a virgin last night – he had to admit – and had embarrassed himself with his shock and amazement at what Tony was willing to do to his ass. Not now. Tony had taken that cherry and now he was prepared.

For about 10 seconds. 

The moaning started up right after that.

Tony moved Peter’s cock to point downward (a move that caused a moan all on it’s own.) He then proceeded to lick a path that started on Peter’s shaft and went up, over his scrotum and then up the crack of his ass (both cheeks parted in Tony’s helpful hands) and over his opening, ending at the base of his spine. Peter tried to stay quiet – he honestly did - but Peter **_also_** knew that this was just the preliminary licking. Tony was just working his way up to paying very specific oral attention to Peter’s hole. 

Peter thought it had been the surprise last night that had made him moan – but he was mistaken. Now he was moaning in anticipation.

When Tony’s tongue started flicking around his hole, Peter was pleased to realize that gaping didn’t make any noise at all.

Then Tony started pushing a mouth-wet finger inside, teasing Peter alternatively with his finger and then his tongue, and Peter forgot all about his manly efforts at silence. It was more than just sensation (which was overwhelming.) It was also the amazing fact - was this TONY STARK on his knees, his with his face buried in my ass?!?

“Oh God Tony!” Peter cried out as Tony’s finger disappeared. Now both hands were firmly kneading the meat of his ass and now the only thing Tony was using was his tongue.

“What’s wrong angel?” Tony asked, pulling away long enough to speak.

“Tony…..I…..I need you,” Peter whimpered.

“What do you need, angel?” Tony was asking, his voice infuriatingly calm.

Peter couldn’t even answer the question. In fact he was pushing his ass back into Tony’s face, and Tony was, blissfully, complying, pressing his tongue firmly and steadily into Peter’s body.

It was beautiful, and it was intimate, but it was just a tease, and soon Peter knew what he needed to say.

“I need you Tony,” he said again, reaching out to stroke the hair of the man on his knees behind him.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I need you to take me to bed.”

“We just came from the bed, angel,” Tony murmured, and Peter moaned in defeat, sank his mouth down onto his hand and moaned manfully in Tony’s shower.

It seemed to go on forever. But finally Peter’s aching cock made it impossible not to try again.

“Please, Tony, _please_ take me to your bed. I’m begging you…..” And Tony complied.

Peter moaned again as Tony rose and wrapped him up in strong arms. Peter knew (from the night before) that the older man would spend some time holding his face under the spray before the shower would be over. He tried grinding his ass against Tony’s erection – dear god he was desperate – but Tony didn’t allow it. So Peter stood obediently with his head resting against the wall until Tony was ready.

Outside the shower they toweled off in silence. Peter watched Tony carefully. The last time they had done this Tony had wrapped up in the towel before pointing Peter to his pajamas. The next time they had been together Tony was dressed. When they had been in bed together, Tony hadn’t taken off his shirt. Even in the shower Peter had spent most of his time facing the wall, as Tony had directed.

But now, in the dimly lit bathroom, they regarded each other naked. Peter couldn’t help but stop and look at the scars, the trackmarks, the underside of the life of a superhero.

He licked his lips, he wanted to run his tongue all over this man’s body. Tony watched his face carefully, then led him away by the hand.

“Two boys, hmm?” Tony said playfully, breaking the silence. Peter looked at him blankly. He was being led to the bed and, just like in a scene from his many fevered fantasies, Tony was laying him out on his back.

“Two was the number, you said?”

Peter said nothing.

“I believe your _exact_ words were ‘A couple of boys, literally two.’ Is that right?” 

“Um…yeah?” Peter managed, baffled.

“Well, the number is about to be three,” Tony said with a grin, and Peter’s eyes went wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't leave kudos more than once, so leave a comment!


	3. The Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Does it hurt?” Peter asked, cupping Tony’s face, but Tony (although his eyes were closed) only grinned.
> 
> “Hurts so good, angel,” he was saying, and Peter had to close his eyes and trust that Tony knew what he was talking about.

Tony pushed Peter down the bed and, in many ways, it seemed as if _all_ of Peter’s most secret dreams were coming true.

Tony was straddling him and looking down at him with dark eyes that made his heart pound. Fingers were being slicked up from something that was cleverly tucked away in the nighttable, and now those fingers were being pressed into intimate places. Granted, they were _his_ fingers, and Tony had slicked them up himself and then guided Peter’s hand himself into those intimate places, but how could he complain? He didn’t have air to complain. His hair was still wet from the shower and Tony had _just_ announced the sex-act in question and it was happening _right now_.

He wasn’t going to complain….but he would like to ask a few questions….for instance he did see Tony _flinch_ just now (although the man did his best to cover it) and he wanted to ask about that but now Tony was slicking up his cock with that lovely stuff from the nightstand and Peter could do nothing but moan.

That lovely stuff from the nightstand – Tony had made it appear, alongside a white towel, like a magic trick. Now the man was drying his hand, and then Peter’s two fingers, with the towel. Now the _eyes_ were back, and Peter’s heart was pounding hard enough to make his chest ache. 

He must have looked panicked because Tony was now leaning over and kissing his face, his hair, the shell of his ear. “Are you ready, angel?” he was asking, and Peter, completely unable to speak, could only nod.

Tony moaned when he pushed the head of Peter’s cock inside himself, a sound which didn’t sound entirely right, and Peter reached out instinctively and touched Tony's shoulder, then stroaked the back of his neck. That got good results – Tony relaxed and moaned pleasurably and leaned into the touch – and Peter could concentrate on massaging the other man’s neck when he didn’t want to think about the _other_ thing the man was doing….

But then there was nothing else but think about it and Peter’s hands dropped helplessly to the bed. He closed his eyes and whimpered.

Tony was forcing his cock into someplace impossibly warm and impossibly tight. Peter opened his eyes enough to look down at himself, disappearing into Tony’s body, and in that moment he couldn’t think of an act that could be more intimate than this.

But keeping his eyes open meant that he could see Tony’s face, and Tony was _wincing_.

“Does it hurt?” Peter asked, cupping Tony’s face, but Tony (although his eyes were closed) only grinned.

“Hurts so _good_, angel,” he was saying, and Peter had to close his eyes and trust that Tony knew what he was talking about.

(Although he had _no idea_ what Tony was talking about. What the _fuck_ did ‘hurt good’ mean? Peter had never had a good hurt before the spiderbite, and after the spiderbite nothing hurt ever – except for collapsing buildings and that didn’t hurt ‘good’ at all.)

Then Peter heard an impossible sound and his eyes flew open to see …. ah god….Tony’s hand was on his own cock and he was jerking himself off just inches from Peter’s face. 

There was no way to fight what happened next. He had no more control over what happened next than he had control of gravity. He came helplessly, transfixed at the sight of Tony’s hand moving over his own cock, came suddenly, came loudly. Tony, at least, did not seem to mind. Eyes closed and jaw set he soon came himself, calling Peter’s name and spilling over Peter’s chest.

Peter held his head when Tony came. 

He remembered that Tony liked that.

“Stay there,” Tony ordered and Peter might have said something in agreement, but mostly he just panted. Tony retreated into the bathroom and returned with a warm wet towel which he used to clean Peter’s cock. “Don’t move,” he whispered, and Peter obeyed. Soon he heard the sound of the shower, and was vaguely disappointed that this time Tony was showering by himself, and Peter wasn’t invited. Still, he obeyed.

(The truth is, he fell asleep.)

He woke up some time later with a start to the smell of cooking breakfast. He had no way of knowing how long he had slept, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. 

He was singing from the kitchen. Something in Italian.

Breakfast, Peter was relieved to find, wasn’t terribly awkward. Tony asked him no questions and he offered up no opinions. They talked tech just like they always did, and soon were discussing the details of the flat radial sweep the drone that would be attached to his suit would use, just as if everything were normal. Just as if Peter hadn’t fucked Tony in the ass just a scant hour before.

After breakfast, Tony headed to the lab, expecting Peter to follow. 

“I…..have to go home at some point,” Peter pointed out cautiously. “I still have a whole unit of Complex Variables I haven’t even cracked and it’s supposed to be done by Monday.”

Tony looked regretful.

The look filled Peter with relief.

“When can I see you again?” Tony was asking, and it didn’t sound polite at all. It sounded complexly and utterly sincere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You KNOW you can't leave kudos again, so why not leave a comment?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome!
> 
> In *many* of my fics, comments and questions just made the fic longer!
> 
> Comments are easy - just cut and paste your favorite line!


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